


A Hundred Words

by evansweaters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Defending Jacob (TV), Knives Out (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansweaters/pseuds/evansweaters
Summary: A series of one hundred word drabbles, inspired by one word prompts.
Relationships: Andy Barber/You, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. Four Walls

**Author's Note:**

> so, i entered a tumblr challenge to write a drabble with 100 words - no more, no less - based on a one word prompt of my choosing and absolutely loved it. now, i'm taking requests for more and will be posting them here as well! feel free to mosy on over to my account (@evansweaters) to submit one - just send a character (can be any one of chris evans or sebastian stan's roles) and a word! 
> 
> for this first entry: character - bucky barnes & word - idyllic.

He’s awake before the sun, eyes to the coming dawn over a still, blue lake. Around him, the woods boast its first hums of life. Behind him, a cabin sits with windows spread wide to let the world in. For a moment, Bucky’s thoughts wander to the scene waiting for him beyond the open glass. You, bare-skinned, tangled in wrinkled sheets. His love is on you, marks and bites, while yours glimmers from the ring on his left hand. In those four walls, the home he made; with you, in you, around you.

He could stay here forever, he thinks.


	2. Settled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> character: steve rogers  
> prompt: coffee

He doesn’t want to wake you. Settled sleep is a treasure at an Avengers’ home, and this is the most peaceful Steve has ever seen you. No injuries to startle you awake, no nightmares haunting. Just an effortless calm, your face tucked against his chest and breathing slow.

He doesn’t want to get up. But, like clockwork, an alarm demands attention. You stir on the second ring to an apologetic lover clutching the culprit --- his phone. “Sorry, sweetheart.” His mouth meets your jaw; tender supplication.

You smile and trail fingers up his arm. “If you get coffee going, you’re forgiven.”


	3. Draped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> character: ransom drysdale  
> prompt: fur

The sight of you ensnares him. Sparks a hunger that tints blue eyes an inky black over his glass. You’ve always had a habit of flaunting the things he buys you, but this ---- this is _**new**_. 

You’re a vision. Floor length fur (a couple thousands worth) swallows your naked body whole. You play coy, but each step is calculated. Breasts bouncing past the lapels, glimpses of thigh between the seams. You move with purpose, and that rouses his in turn. It draws his hands toward you until you sigh beneath them, blissful. Ransom preens. He presses. You fall right in.


	4. Heavens High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> character: steve rogers  
> prompt: heat

_Stevie._

The moan sits on the summer air like a prayer; reverent, needy, desperate. Steve’s answer is a long lick between your legs, tongue circling your clit to beckon angels home. And when his teeth join -- the faintest scrape to your sensitive skin -- you swear you see the heavens split. Needy fingers scramble through his damp hair until they settle on the back of his head. An earnest tug draws him deeper; flush against you until he might drown.

Your soldier hums, squeezes your thigh; eager to submerge. And soon, you come apart, a blissed out sweat for your troubles.


	5. Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> character: andy barber  
> prompt: daddy

It’s quarter past eleven Sunday morning, and you wake to an empty bed. Lingering warmth lets you know that Andy hasn’t been gone long, but yearning settles all the same. You rise to find him, sleep still in your eyes. 

There’s laughter in the house, bursting from the kitchen, and you follow it with a spreading smile. From the doorway, you see your twins in his arms, one over his shoulder, the other hoisted up by the waist. On the stove, pancakes cook beside Daddy’s famous (he swears it) scrambled eggs. Your favorite mug sits full nearby. 

This is bliss.


End file.
